


A Son

by midnight_bird



Category: Hornblower (TV)
Genre: Blink And You Miss It Slash, Canon Compliant, Series Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-21
Updated: 2015-10-21
Packaged: 2018-04-27 12:13:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5048149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnight_bird/pseuds/midnight_bird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hornblower frets; Bush subtly comforts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Son

_A son, Horatio. You’re going to be a father…_ He can still hear her voice as vibrantly as wind singing through the rigging. He can still feel her taut womb as he could when she laid his hand on the fabric of her dress. A boy. Some time, not very distant from now – just short of a month, in fact - his first offspring will enter the world, God willing.

Hornblower clenches the wooden ship’s rail in calloused hands. He shouldn’t be dwelling on it. They’re sailing to another conflict with France, the storm clouds of battle gather low on the horizon, and yet his thoughts return to home. Is Moriah well? Is the child? So many young ones fall asleep forever long before they ought… He thinks of the bodies of men he’s surveyed strewn on the quarterdeck in the aftermath of conflict, clothes stained crimson… No. The young one must be healthy.

Do other men dwell on their children so? It is difficult to imagine admirals like Pellew reflecting on their sons and daughters when about to engage the enemy. The very idea shames Hornblower and he is ready to enter into an inner tirade of self-disgust when a voice breaks his thoughts.

“Sir?”

“What is it, Bush?”

“Is anything amiss, sir?”

“No.”

Bush gives him a scrutinizing look, but does not press him aloud. He is used to Hornblower’s “dark moods” as Kennedy called them. The two officers are silent for a moment, looking out over the deck. Then Hornblower speaks with unusual uncertainty in his voice.

“Do you ever think of them? Your sisters, I mean.”

A slight smile comes to Bush’s lips. “Of course.”

“And if – if you had a child – would you find it fitting to think of him as well?”

“Certainly.”

“Even when approaching battle?”

“Especially then. In fighting for England, we fight for them, do we not?”

“We do.” Hornblower tilts his head in agreement.

“He’ll be fine, sir. Your wife is a strong woman.”

Hornblower stares. How did he know? Then he shakes his head. “Carry on, Lieutenant Bush.”

Bush touches fingers to his bicorn. “Aye, aye, sir.”

 _We fight for them…_ Hornblower thinks as Bush returns to the men he supervises. Once, Pellew told him that he would learn there was something more to struggle for than England. At the time, he had been confused. Now, he knows what the old lion meant. Tucked away in an English port town is a woman who depends on him and an unborn son he somehow already loves.

“Enemy in sight, sir!” The lookout calls.

Straightening his shoulders, Hornblower lifts his head and gives the commands to ready for engagement.

**Author's Note:**

> Unbetaed. Civil feedback is appreciated. // Not mine. Please don’t sue.


End file.
